


The Things You Said

by theoxfordcommando



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9963539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoxfordcommando/pseuds/theoxfordcommando
Summary: A series of fenhawke snapshots based on prompts from collarsbones' list on tumblr.Feat. men incapable of expressing their feelings, hopelessly sappy cuddles, and a near-fatal fight with the Arishok





	1. Only Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 12: Things you said when you thought I was asleep

Hawke awoke with a sharp intake of breath, ripped mercilessly into consciousness. He wasn’t sure where he was. He didn’t remember falling asleep. And the pain in his side was excruciating.  
Breathing was not an enjoyable experience, each inhale pushing against what felt like several cracked ribs.

It was time to assess his situation. Looking around quickly informed him that he was in one of the camp tents the group took with them when they knew their expeditions out along the Wounded Coast could run longer than usual. Wracking his brain, Hawke began to remember the details about this particular excursion.

The mercenary threat. The Tal Vashoth. The extended battle with endless enemies crawling out of the woodwork. The massive Qunari with the giant, fuck-off hammer. Catching the aforementioned hammer right in the chest and promptly blacking out. 

Anything after that was an obvious mystery to Hawke, but it seemed Varric, Isabela, and Fenris had finished off the fight without him and managed to drag him out of there and make camp. Hawke tried to lift one of his arms, but the strain that put on his ribs, quickly ruined that idea.  
This was why they needed to keep Anders on hand. Or Hawke could bother to take the time to learn a single healing spell, but hey, why start now? 

Besides the fact that he’d probably be stuck lying here for the better part of a day or so. 

At least he was wrapped in enough blankets to counteract the cool air of the coast. Someone had also done an impressive job of bandaging him up, the smell of elfroot salve hanging heavily in the air.  
Figuring he’d just call it a day, Hawke began to drift again. Until the sound of Isabela’s voice caught his attention. For someone who’d made a living in stealth, her voice certainly carried.

“That Champion of ours took a real beating back there.” He could hear the smile in her voice, which was a good sign that meant permanent damage was probably unlikely. 

“Hawke is many things, but impervious to large hammers does not appear to be a part of his particular skill set.” Ah, Fenris. Fenris had a lovely voice and Hawke decided that a little eavesdropping could do no harm. After all, it was only fair if they were going to talk smack.

“If that fool mage could perform his own healing spells, we wouldn’t be trapped out here.” A valid point from Fenris.

“Well, sure,” Isabela said, “but that would make these little outings of ours considerably less exciting.

Fenris’ agreement came in the form of a derisive huff. A silence descended among the two -which implied Varric was off somewhere else- and Hawke nearly fell asleep again.

“So Fenris, I’ve been away for awhile. Figured you could catch me up on all the news.” 

This was the first mission Isabela had been on since she’d disappeared after the Arishok’s defeat. Hawke’s trust in her was still shaky, but he was trying to work past that, just as she was. 

“I imagine Varric would be a much better source of information.”

“Ah, but see, I want information that Varric doesn’t have.” The sly note in Isabela’s voice was unmistakable, but Fenris wasn’t biting. 

“In that case, you have certainly come to the wrong place.”

“You and Hawke.” 

The silence that stretched out after that was torturously long. Sleep was now the last thing on Hawke’s mind, and while he knew he shouldn’t necessarily be listening to this, he couldn’t help himself. 

It was long moments before Fenris finally replied; “There is nothing to tell.”

That wasn’t good enough for Isabela. “That’s not how I remember it.”

“Then perhaps you should stop drinking during the day.”

“Hey now. I know Kirkwall was a mess when I left, but I also know you.”

“You certainly like to think you do.”

“Hah! I know you better than you’d believe. And I know what you were like after we watched Hawke take down the Arishok. Even after he’d been gored through.” There was a sharp hiss.

“If it’s all the same to you, that’s a memory I would rather not dwell on.” Hawke couldn’t blame him for that. It was not a fond memory of his either. What little of it he remembered, anyways.

“Fenris…”

“Don’t.”

“You’re being a stubborn fool.”

“And what would you have me say?” Fenris’ voice now carried an edge that had been absent from the conversation until now. Isabela was treading on thin ice now and a misstep could be calamitous. Isabela either didn’t realise or didn’t care.

“Just tell me the steamy bits, at least.”

Fenris sighed. “I’ve already told you that there is no more to tell. As long as Hawke wishes to have me fight at his side, I will do so. That is the story.”

“But he loves you.”

The silence after that was heavy with words with words begging to be said. 

“He will move on eventually.” And perhaps it was wishful thinking on Hawke’s part, but Fenris didn’t sound particularly convinced. 

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”

“But you love him.”

If the silence before had been heavy, the one that followed Isabela’s most recent revelation sat over the camp like a dead ogre. The pain in Hawke’s chest was now behind his ribs, a cold fist clenched tight around his heart. It was a long time before Fenris responded;

“That doesn’t change anything.” 

If Isabela said anything in response it was inaudible. Or perhaps it was just that Hawke had lost the ability to hear anything over the beating of his own heart. He had hoped. But to know… He shouldn’t be listening to this. It wasn’t his place. Fenris deserved-

“Hawke and I. We can’t. I can’t. He deserves better than that. More than whatever pathetic excuse for love I could give him.”

“Fenris-“

“Do not. He will move on. He will have to. He would be foolish to wait forever for something I could not give him.” Hawke heard Fenris stand and begin to walk away. And even still, Isabela could not be dissuaded. 

“As we have already established, Hawke is a very great fool.”

Fenris did not respond and Hawke listened to the sound of tent material being pushed back, bedding being rearranged.

Isabela was quiet for some time before letting out a long sigh. 

“They’re both fools.” she told the night air of the coast.

 

Hawke could only agree.


	2. Half-Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things you said when you thought I was asleep. (Part2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some short, fluffy romance nonsense

Fenris breathed in deep, sliding into consciousness slowly, taking his time to savour that warm and fuzzy feeling that comes after a good rest. That liminal space between waking and sleep where the whole world was soft around the edges. His mind was quiet, his body at ease. Restful sleep had been becoming easier for Fenris, but an evening without nightmares was still a thing to be treasured.

Without opening his eyes, he could tell that it was still early. Much too early to do anything other than lie in this bed, basking in the early morning light that slipped through the curtains. 

He could feel the presence of Hawke, warm along his side, and he smiled as he relaxed further into the man he loved. There was nothing in the world better than this, nowhere he’d rather be. Hawke’s arm was draped over Fenris’ waist, tracing idle circles across his abdomen, lightly enough to be almost unnoticeable, but enough to make the muscles of his stomach jump at every other pass of skin on skin. Hawke’s hands were warm, always were, a forest fire contained within a single man, and he made an excellent substitute for a blanket, especially with all that hair. 

Fenris smiled to himself and began to drift off again, comfortable and content, when he felt Hawke readjust slightly behind him, moving slowly so as not to wake the elf in his arms. 

Hawke resituated himself and Fenris kept his eyes closed, luxuriating in closeness of their little nest when he heard Hawke whisper;

“I never imagined I could be this happy.”

He’d said it to himself, barely more than an exhalation of breath. The words were soft, and spoken with an air of wonder, and Fenris’ heart felt too large for his chest all of a sudden. 

Fenris lifted his hand to cover the one resting on his stomach, rubbing his thumb across the knuckles. 

“You are absurd,” he said. Just as quietly, with the same hushed reverence Hawke had used. 

He felt Hawke tense behind him, embarrassed at having been caught out. Fenris gently turned himself around in his arms, lifting his chin to meet Hawke’s eyes. Hawke’s eyes fluttered shut when Fenris lifted a hand to his cheek. 

“You make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

At that Hawke smiled, opening his eyes again to take in the sight of Fenris, lazy in the half-morning light, hair ruffled from sleep. A line indented on his cheek from where the favour on his wrist had been pressed into the skin all night. 

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” Hawke said, still smiling.

“I can think of a few ways you could make it up to me.” Fenris replied, rolling onto Hawke with a smile of his own.


	3. What Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things you said when you were scared. (Pt 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out much longer than anticipated with plenty of angst. Enjoy!

Time had stopped for Fenris. And he was trapped in this moment. This horrible moment.  
The infallible Garrett Hawke run through on the blade of the Arishok. 

The Qunari had lifted Hawke off his feet, suspended on the blade, the sharp steel sticking out of his back, slick with Hawke's blood.  
And Fenris didn't move.  
For the first time in so long, he was powerless to do anything but stand and watch events unfold. 

Isabela screamed.  
A desperate, pained scream that resonated in the crowded hall, shattering the silence that had fallen over the morbid tableau.  
Aveline was holding onto Isabela but her face had gone very pale.  
Varric looked looked like he might be sick and Merrill had begun to cry.  
Anders was muttering what sounded like prayers to the Maker interspersed with violent epithets as he tore at his hair.  
Fenris didn't notice any of this because his entire being was focussed intently on Hawke while his whole world collapsed around him. 

The Arishok withdrew the blade in a swift movement, falling into defensive stance as though he wished to admire his handiwork before finishing off the man that, somewhere along the way, had become the greatest friend and ally Fenris had ever known.  
More than that.  
So much more than Fenris could stand to think of in this moment. 

By some miracle, Hawke was still breathing. Impossible as it seemed, the blade must not have hit anything that could kill Hawke immediately. But he couldn't possibly have much time left.  
Hawke had even managed to keep his footing, stubborn to the last, but his legs were bowed and shaky, his face a sickly white as his blood bloomed dark across his leather armour, falling over the fingers of the hand pressed against his side.  
Watching this was torture, every fibre of Fenris' being demanding that he go to Hawke.  
Catch him before he fell.  
Carry him away from here.  
Anywhere that wasn't here.  
Just run.  
It would be the end of Kirkwall. The Qunari would decimate the city, but suddenly Fenris couldn't bring himself to care.  
He had no home here without Hawke.  
And still he didn't move. 

Hawke looked up then. But not at his foe. At Fenris.  
His face was a mess.  
A backhanded strike from the Arishok near the beginning of the fight had broken his nose and blood had dried all down his chin. One eye was blackened and swollen and his bottom lip hap been split down the middle, sliced open by his own teeth.  
Fenris didn't even have the presence of mind to yell at him for taking his eyes off his opponent.  
Hawke was staring straight at him, despite everything.  
Hawke gave him a small sad smile before turning away like a man who knew he was looking his last. 

Switching his gaze to the Arishok, Hawke's bloody grin widened, manic and grisly, as he took his own defensive stance.  
Still unwilling to go down without a fight, regardless of the state of his internal organs.  
Fenris watched Hawke spit a mouthful of blood before speaking to the Qunari, still smiling. 

"Alright big guy, that all you've got?"

The Arishok leapt at Hawke, both blades raised high to strike down hard.  
A powerful hit intended to decimate.  
Fenris braced himself for the inevitable as best he could.  
This would be it.  
The end of any plans for a future he might have had. 

But the Arishok's attack was designed as a display of his strength, not one of practicality.  
He had underestimated Garrett Hawke.  
A fatal mistake. 

Hawke moved quickly, quicker than should have been possible given his injuries, rushing towards the Arishok, inside his defences.  
The move was the last act of a desperate man. If it failed, Hawke was dead where he stood.  
Spinning his staff upside down, Hawke put all of his strength into pushing the serrated blade affixed to the end up and into the Arishok's chest.  
When it made contact, Fenris felt the air crackle, the call of Hawke's battlefield magic a familiar tingle along his veins.  
The entire hall watched as Hawke channelled everything he had into a burst of lightning that ran from his hands into the chest of the charging Qunari, right to his heart.  
And there, against all odds, stood Hawke, barely breathing, supporting the whole weight of the dead Arishok.  
With a final show of stubborn strength, he threw the body of the Arishok to the side, staff clattering to the ground as he straightened up, squaring his shoulders. His face was stern.  
Determined.  
But blood was still running freely from his chest wound, and if he didn't get help soon he would have no possible hope of recovery. 

He addressed the army of Qunari;  
"Now. Leave."

The Qunari made no protest, turning and walking from the hall, leaving the body of their former leader where it lay. 

The applause.  
The applause was sudden and deafening as the people of Kirkwall hailed Hawke.  
Their Champion.  
Hawke's response was to collapse to the ground. 

Fenris did move then. Faster than anyone unenhanced with lyrium could ever move and caught Hawke's head before it hit the ground.  
Aveline and Anders were running over as well, while Varric and Merrill stayed back a ways to get rid of the crowd.  
Isabela remained stock still by the pillars at the entrance, watching everything in horror.  
Hawke had a pulse but it was weak. 

"Hawke. Hawke stay with me."  
Hawke's eyes fluttered open and immediately closed, unseeing. 

"Hawke listen to me you can't die. Not here."  
A groan was the only indication he had heard Fenris, but that could equally be attributed to any of his various wounds.

"Hawke, I can't do this without you."  
But that wasn't necessarily true.  
It didn't mean enough and Hawke deserved the truth.  
But Fenris was scared to death of the truth. 

"Hawke, I don't want to do this without you."  
The words were whispered into Hawke's ear from where Fenris was bent over his form, one hand over Hawke's, applying pressure to his gut wound, the other cradling his skull, fingers tangled gently in his hair.  
And that was the truth of it.  
Or as close as he could get to it in this moment.  
Perhaps he could manage, but the fact remained that he simply didn't want to without Hawke. Not after everything they had been through.  
Fenris had grown accustomed to their easy camaraderie, had come to rely on the knowledge that Hawke would always be there in spite everything Fenris had done.  
And perhaps it was selfish, but Fenris had never been allowed to be selfish before.  
And this.  
What he had with Hawke.  
He refused to let that go. 

"Please, Hawke." Pressed against his forehead, murmured like a prayer. 

Then Anders was there, sliding the last few inches on his knees to reach Hawke. Fenris said nothing; the mage was Hawke's only hope.  
Anders pushed Fenris' hand away to shove his own against Hawke's wound, magic crackling at his fingertips and causing the lyrium in Fenris to spark painfully at the proximity.  
He didn't care.  
He wasn't going anywhere. 

Fenris stayed there, holding Hawke's head in his lap as Anders worked. He lost feeling in his legs, having been pressed so long into cold stone, and his owns wounds from earlier throbbed. They would need to be treated. But they could wait.  
It took three hours.  
That was how long Hawke stood balanced upon the precipice between life and death.  
After what felt an eternity, Anders fell back onto his ass, covered up to the elbows in Hawke's blood. 

"He's stable."  
Fenris could have sobbed with relief but he didn't. That too could wait. 

"Thank you." He said, still looking down at Hawke. 

"I didn't do it for you" Anders ground out. Fenris ignored him. 

Hawke yet lived.  
Stubborn, unstoppable man.  
The Champion of Kirkwall. 

Fenris closed his eyes and waited for his heart rate to return to normal. 

Hawke was safe.

And that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Sorry about all that angst. If you want to come screech at me about Fenris or my Hawke twins au you can find me on tumblr under the same name! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to collarsbones for the awesome prompt list and to gothic-princess-witch for the prompt and support! <3


End file.
